


A walk into the past

by silberstreif



Category: Bravely Default: Flying Fairy
Genre: Dark, Florem, Gen, Ringabel's past, Slum, Yuletide 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 11:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2810366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silberstreif/pseuds/silberstreif
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Florem. The city of flowers. His home city with dark secrets beneath... This time, this night, Ringabel is going home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A walk into the past

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Steelneko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steelneko/gifts).



> Dear Steelneko,  
> this turned out a bit (lot) darker than I intended it to. I wanted to go into the differences between Alternis and Ringabel and instead I wrote an origin story. I hope you like it anyway. I have several other tries and I might post them in the future, if I can get them anywhere close to finishing.  
> Happy Christmas!

 

 

**A walk into the past**

 

 

Ringabel stood next to the window, in the shadow of the street lamps of Florem. Night had fallen hours ago, and every respectful citizen had went home. His friends too were sleeping in their beds, Tiz only a few meters behind him. And yet the streets weren’t empty. Now, at night, they had come out, just as he knew they would.

Always looking over their shoulders, they were tiptoeing through the streets, running from dumpster to trash can searching for food and mercy. Ringabel watched with crossed arms, trying to control the old memories and feelings.

It had probably been a mercy that his memories had returned gradually, with enough lapses to give him time to come to terms with them again. Some he had been happy to regain. Most had only let him gain a far too deep understanding why every alternate version of him they had met so far was prone to suicide. Truthfully, in some dark moments even he couldn’t stop the whispering promises of his blade… but no. He had a duty. Edea – this alternative Edea, not his friend and sister in heart, never she again – needed him. Tiz trusted him. Agnés, even she now, he was sure, would miss him.

Yet, since he had his memories back it was so hard to believe in his own self-worth. The old memories as Alternis Dim and his new ones as Ringabel were so different in their life experiences that he sometimes got a headache just trying to make sense of the world.

The others said he had grown quieter. He knew, that this was the least of his changes.

Down below him, another new shadow had reached the Inn’s trash. Too late, little one, he thought sadly. The others had been there earlier and had eaten whatever was to find. The little one, a boy searched on and on anyway. He was so clearly desperate, that Ringabel’s heart clenched. He knew this desperation that was brought on by the pain of hunger and fear only too well.

Another rush of memories overcame him. The slums of Florem had never been a nice place and now with the recent fightings he could only imagine it worse. He looked back to Tiz, who was still peacefully slumbering. Tiz knew nothing of Florem’s dark side. And so had Ringabel once. As Alternis Dim he had hated everyone who had looked upon Florem and seen only beauty. Now, he understood, having admired the beauty of the girls and women more than most others.

Oh crystals, didn’t feel DeRosso’s comments of them being the same now like a slap in the face? Even more so than before.

So bitter. And just because he understood now, didn’t mean than he hated the city less. Burning anger unfolded within him, when the boy scurried of – hungry and alone. Did no one wonder, why in this beautiful flower city with so many girls and women, there were no men? No boys?

He knew. He remembered. He also remembered telling DeRosso to take no mercy on Florem. He was sure that every world’s Alternis Dim had done the same. Of course, they meant militarily, yet… he wondered. How much had Florem suffered truly beneath its shiny outside? How many girls had DeRosso caught? How many the Blood Rose Legion killed?

Were his mother and sister still alive, or had he exacted revenge through another’s hand?

He didn’t know and those thoughts didn’t let him sleep through the nights in Florem anymore. He looked back to Tiz, and came to a decision. Quietly he walked towards his clothes and chose the most non-descript and damaged attire he had. The result wasn’t as poor looking as he wanted to be, so he took a rain cape with him. It was dark, and on these streets few would attack a hooded person. Especially an armed one, yet his hand hesitated over his sword. Thanks to their months – years – of travel by now, he was an excellent fighter and even better swordsman. He knew magics and alchemy, and few could stand against him.

He wouldn’t need a sword, if he didn’t want to start a slaughter… and at least now, with a clear mind he didn’t want to. But the hatred within his chest was too bright to argue that he wasn’t tempted.

‘For their sake,’ he thought, remembering his three friends that would never forgive such a thing and he let his hand fall away. Tonight, he would go in weaponless. As just a man… visiting home.

~

Tiz had been awake for some time now, but he hadn’t moved as he had listened concerned what his friend was doing. Too stark had been the difference between Ringabel’s wonder to Florem the first time they had come, and his dark look today. He had pointed it out in a quiet moment to the girls and Edea had whispered:

“He lived once in Florem.”

“He was born here?” asked Agnés.

“Who knows? But I guess he isn’t fond of the city.” Edea grimaced. “Alternis certainly wasn’t.”

When Ringabel had left his bed and walked to the window, Tiz had thought that maybe the usual nightmares had bothered his friend. Really, he had hoped it. By now they all had nightmares and sorrows that came to haunt them at night. Though, he suspected that none of theirs came close to Ringabel’s burden. But his friend rarely talked about the past, and in the last months had talked less all together.

Yet he didn’t expect for Ringabel to get into his clothes and to just leave. Without a weapon at that! As the door fell close, he sat up and confirmed that Ringabel had really only taken the old rain cloak and nothing else. Just where was he going?

It took him only a split-second to decide, then he changed his clothing as fast as he could, took Ringabel’s and his own sword and ran to the girl’s room. He didn’t bother with knocking.

“Wake up!” he hissed. “Ringabel’s is going somewhere!”

The girls were just as fast as him, a leftover of having been hunted on the road for too long.

“How do you know, did he say something?” asked Edea, as she strapped her own rapier on.

“No, he just left without his sword even. Are you ready?”

“Yes!” was Edea's sure answer.

“What about Airy?” asked Anges. The little crystal fair was still sleeping deeply.

Tiz eyed Airy, then shook his head. “Might be better to let her sleep and recover from the journey.” Not even to mention the suspicions that she might be the enemy.

The vestal nodded, determination shining in her eyes. “Let’s follow him.”

They ran down as fast and quietly as they could. Tiz feared that they were too late, but then they saw the characteristic grey hair walking down an alley and vanishing behind a corner. They hurried after it.

~

It was strange how fast it all returned. The streets, the alleys, even the horrors that happened to him there. Here, he had once found a doll. There, he had met his friend Daleen on many afternoons, just before their night raids for food. Two streets down Daleen had been knifed down. For a moment he had forgotten why he friend died, but then he realized that he had never known. Death was just a natural part of life here.

The further he walked, the darker it became. Once he looked up and saw the stars and smiled. They were the only thing in his life that had never abandoned or betrayed him. They had always been there, and gave light even in his darkest hours.

At a crossroad he finally stopped. He knew, where all the ways went to, but he was unsure what he really wanted. Closure? Certainty? He decided that it barely mattered, and choose the road to the slum. He had to see if his memories were the truth or if his childish self was lying to him.

All lights vanished, the cobbled street became riddled with holes and on the right a small stream of waste was ever flowing downwards. The pungent smell got increasingly worse, but he bore it stoically. He was coming home.

On the left and right the small, beautifully crafted houses had been replaced by sturdy, wooden huts that became increasingly simpler. This was the poor fisher’s town. The fisher families lived here, not a single one rich, but they got by. Finally, the street ended at the river, and the small stream of waste went right into it, polluting it further. No wonder the ocean had turned deadly without the water crystals magic. They were poisoning it slowly.

He climbed down to the river bed, where a small way was for the fisher boats to be tied on. It was slippery here, and from afar he could see a Watcher. Better to hurry then, Watchers were rarely choosy with their victims.

He run down the walkway as if hadn’t years went past since the last time he did. At the river’s side he went back to the center of the city, but was now beneath it. In front of him the river separated. The majority went right, but a smaller part went left into the city. The people who created this to supply the city with ever fresh water must have been clever, he mused, but as a child he had only seen safety.

He followed the smaller river and above him the first bridges appeared. At first they were few, but soon the buildings were high up and the bridges were carrying whole platforms. The slimy, wet walls left and right held no doors or windows anymore. These were the cellars of the upper-class, if even that. The stars and moon barely could spend light down here, and any being had to orientate himself more by sound and feeling than its eyes. Something ran over his foot, and he smiled grimly. Rats lived well down here. This was the forgotten undergrounds. This was the slum.

He stepped over a small stream that stank far too much of urine and walked on. Blindly, he followed his memories in a dark, wet and cold labyrinth. Then, from afar, he could hear the first voices and see a few lights.

“Welcome home,” he whispered and walked to the burning fires and pitiful huts.

~

They followed him as well as they could, but stealth really wasn’t their strong suit. Especially not Edea’s, who usually looked down upon it as ‘black’ behavior. Still, now she was running besides her friends, following Ringabel deeper and deeper into the bowels of the city.

“He really seems to know Florem well,” commented Tiz after yet another street. “I haven’t even heard of this part of the city.”

“I saw some nets, and something that looked like a boat,” whispered Agnés back. “This could be an old fisher’s village that became part of Florem.”

“Whatever it is, it’s poor. Look out!” With a fluidity that none of her travel companions had ever quite mastered she drew her rapier and pointed it in clear challenge into the dark. “Come out, you coward! I see you hiding!”

From a side alley Agnés and Tiz had both overlooked a young man clutching a cudgel stumbled out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t plan anything!”

“This better be true, for your sake!” Edea warned, the fire of righteousness in her eyes. Yet, their travels had tempered her unbending desire for justice, because she added: “We have no time or patience for a fight. Tell your friends that we’re not their prey tonight and we’ll let you live!”

The poor man’s eyes went wide. “Y-yes, I didn’t know…”

“We have to go! He turned that corner a minute ago and we might lose him,” hissed Tiz.

Agnés was already running, and with one last glance to their would-be-robber they followed her. At the corner, the wind vestal made a hand sign: ‘To the right street.’ They caught up quickly. Ringabel apparently didn’t see any need to walk fast, something which was calming their nerves quite a bit. They reached the river and saw him jump down. Alarmed, they looked down and breathed again seeing the walk way.

“He must have been here before,” muttered Tiz.

“No doubt. But Alternis has been nearly everywhere.” Edea worried her lips. “Yet… this does not look as if it would lead to anywhere good.”

“Someone is coming, from the right,” Agnés said. “We must go now, or lose him!” She took the decision out of their hands, by simply jumping down. Tiz and Edea copied her.

When they reached the splitting river, they went into the underworld of Florem as well. Agnés shivered. “I can’t see what he could possibly want down here. It’s cold and dirty…”

“Very dirty,” agreed Tiz. “There can’t be possibly humans down here, right?”

For a long moment, no one answered, then Edea shook her head: “One thing for sure, rats are.”

Agnés made a grimace. “Eww.”

The place was downright horrible. Darkness surrounded them, only broken by the constant dripping of water and the scuffling of rats. Soon they all had to press their clothes over their mounts and noses, the smell was just getting to bad. They all feared that they would have to burn their clothes once they returned.

“I do not even want to think into just what I now stepped,” sighed Edea as her left food made another ‘squish’.

“Probably the same thing I’ve stepped in now half a dozen times.” Tiz sighed. “I hope this place doesn’t get worse, because I’m seriously doubting I can old my bowels then.”

Agnés just shook her head. “Less talking, means less breathing.”

“There are lights!” Tiz pointed forward. “Many too.”

“Like cooking fires,” added Edea surprised. “And those shapes could be huts…”

“People.” Agnés sounded unbelievable sad. “I can’t believe that in Florem people are living in such conditions!”

“Maybe it’s not so bad,” tried Tiz.

“Maybe, it’s a through and through black place.” Edea spat, but the bitter, horrible taste from the air remained in her mouth. “Ringabel is headed there. So, we’ll know.”

~

Everything was different, and yet the same. Huts made of trash and planks snuggled up to the wet walls, trying to gain a bit stability and safety. Now and then a fire was burning, the wet wood producing clouds of black smoke that made breathing a laborous task. But at least they kept the area warm and dry.

Ringabel ignored the suspicious looks of the dirty men and children, that huddled between their homes. They all were thin, with gaunt faces and old, exhausted eyes. Dirt clung to them like the shell to a turtle. Few were older than Ringabel. Life down here was too hard to live long.

He walked deeper into the slum, acutely aware that he stood out and yet moved with the right speed and posture. Sooner or later some desperate soul would stop him, it was inevitable here. In the shadow between two fires, in the middle of the small way a shape was lying. A child, he realized after a several heartbeats. The boy didn't move as he stepped around him, and when he saw the open eyes, and gaping wound at the throat he knew that it was already too late to help.

He turned away and continued on. Once, that could have been him. Lying here, forgotten and unloved, killed for maybe an apple, or a slice of bread, or even less. Law meant nothing, when no one enforced it, and Florem's peacebringer hadn't been here in decades, if not centuries.

At an intersection he stopped, looking up. Above him floated the brides, monuments of beauty and arrogance. He thought he recognized the biggest one, didn't it lead to the stage of the beauty contest?

“Hey, you. What cha doing here?”

He looked to the right, were a man had appeared. Half hidden in a shadow, Ringabel could bare discern more than black hair and a gleaming dagger.

“Ya from upside, yeah?” said the man. No, not man, boy. Maybe 16, maybe younger.

“I now live upside,” he said. Upside was out of the slum. It didn't matter if he lived in Florem, or on another continent. “But I came from here.”

The man blinked. “Ya got up?”

“Yes.” Ringabel gave the weapon I pointed look. “Put that knife away, you have no chance against me with or without.”

The man hesitated, then did as he was told and stepped forward into the light. It revealed his age to be clearly younger than Ringabel. “Ah'm Raoul. How did ya get up?”

“... Luck,” said Ringabel. “Luck and mercy.”

The boy cocked his head. “And why are ya down again?”

“I'm searching for memories.” Ringabel shook his head. “Follow me or stay, but I have no time to talk more.”

He walked on, and after a few steps he hurried that Raoul was indeed right behind him. Of course, the streetrat was. Ringabel was the only thing more important than food and survival down here – he might be a way out. But was he?

Now, the environment became familiar. This hut was made half out of the hut of an old friend. The other one had still the same roof. And there, the wall, it still had an arrow pointing to one of the exits of the slum. And everywhere were boys of all sizes and ages.

Then, he was there. He couldn't even say, how he knew that it was this exact spot, but it was. His little hut had disappeared, but that was no surprise. He had been young and one of the smallest. You had to fight for building material and he had repeatedly lost. As a result he had called a ships plane his hut. Ridiculous, for outsides. But then he had been so happy and proud to have even that.

Now, there was a huddle of two boys around four that looked similar. Brothers? Twins? Or only circumstance? He didn't know. What he knew was, that they didn't have his ships plane, but an upside down box. It did get the job done, he supposed.

Everything else here was most, the wall even wet. Rats scurried around, searching for food. And it was dark. Even during the day, the slum never became bright. It was stuck in endless twilight, and too large shadows.

He looked at the boys that looked back in terror. They expected the worst, with good reason too. It made Ringabel sick to know that he could do everything to them, and no one would even bother to insult him.

On a whim, because he couldn't stand the fear anymore, he knelt next to them. “When have you last eaten?”

The boy shrinked back. “Yesterday, sir.”

“What?”

The boys took each others hand, seeking comfort the other one. “Bread. Sir.”

“Old?”

“Yes,” said one and the other added. “A family threw it away. Was that wrong?”

The fear twisted his stomach and he shook his head. “No.” He stood up. This had once been him. Helpless, forgotten, abandoned for not being the right gender.

He searched in the rain coat and took out two copper coins. One for each of them. They were barely worth anything, but more would get the little ones robbed. “Take care,” he said and walked on.

Tears burned in his eyes. He remembered and his memories were true. Now, he wished he could forget again.

~

“Stay away!” Edea yelled, raising her sword. “We have no business with you!”

The crowd around them hesitated. Some then raised their hands pitifully, pleading: “Please just a little sign of mercy, nothing more, just a few coppers...”

Others, and that worried the three far more, were producing weapons. Cheap, bad weapons, but still dangerous.

“We have to run,” whispered Tiz.

“Can't we just give them a bit money?” Agnés seemed close to crying. “They're all so young... so...”

Tiz put a hand on her thin shoulders. “I know. I want to help them too, but I do not think they want to let us go.”

Edea stepped closer to them. “He's right. They're trying to close us in. Their hearts must have turned black like their surroundings.”

“Like Alternis,” whispered Agnés.

Edea stiffened. “You mean...?”

Tiz took an arm of both girls. “No time, run!”

They ran from the mass of boys followed them. Begging, pleasing, screaming murder. But the three stood ahead of them, physically more mature and fit than any of them.

“Crystals,” sobbed Agnés. “This is a nightmare.” She stopped.

“What are you doing?!” Tiz yelled.

The vestal didn't even glance at him, when she opened her purse, took out all coins and threw them into the mob. Then she turned and ran again, tears screaming down her face. “Those poor, poor boys.”

Behind them the mob stopped to collect the money now rolling on the floor.

Edea gave her a pat on the back, when the vestal had caught up. “Good idea.”

“I... I just wanted to give them something.”

Tiz risked a look back, but they were alone now. “You did,” he said quietly.

Without Ringabel as their further guide they had to leave the slums and quietly returned to the hotel, waiting in the Tiz and Ringabel's room.

~

Ringabel traced his old steps, using another exist ouf of the slums. There were dozens of them, maybe hundreds. Some small, some big, some hidden and some less so. This one was both small and hidden. As a grown adult he barely managed to fit through the gap.

But then he stood on the clean street of Upside-Florem again.

A noise behind him let him turn around. “Raoul? Are you following me?”

The teenager looked to the ground. “Just curious. Where do ya live now? Ya have a job?”

Was being hunted by Eternia, while being one of the Six Councilmembers a job? He smiled wryly. “I'm a warrior.”

“Really?” The boy looked at him with big eyes. “What kinda?”

He wanted to say 'I've mastered many styles,' but it wasn't true. He had the Asterixs of many, but really mastered he had only one. “... A Dark Knight.”

“Awesome! Ya fight battles too?”

“Some.” Ringabel turned and walked on. He had still one location to visit. “Sometimes I heal, sometimes I'm a spy.”

“Ya're a hero!”

“To some.” His stomach clenched as he remembered the Grand Marshall's dire warnings, Airy's inconsistencies, and Edea dead in his arms. Was he a hero? Or was he one of the four biggest villains that would destroy all and everything?

He didn't know. Sometimes he didn't care. Why should he always be the one to lose everything? Let the world suffer what it deserves!

That black rage was so familiar, cutting to the very core of his soul. He walked a bit faster, while it pulsed within. It was what turned him into the Dark Knight, what had forced him to endure and survive countless times. But it was a double-edged sword, making him stronger, strong enough to stand up and walk on no matter what, but weaker, because the moment he lost his reason, he lost everything.

Edea... she was still alive. Tiz, Agnés, they would wait too. And all those in Eternia.

He still had them.

He walked on.

“What's upside life like?” Raoul quietly asked after several streets. “Ya go hungry less often?”

“Yes.” Ringabel glanced at the boy, the one who could understand the luxury of everything he now had. “You always have warm beds, a good roof and clean clothes.”

“Must be wonderful,” sighed the boy wistfully.

“It is. But the people... the people are the best.”

He had to stop now and reorientate himself several times. It had been so long he had come here, and even as a child it had been rare. Still, he had never forgotten and in the end he reached his destination. On the other street side stood a small house with a garden in which flowers of all kinds grew. The door was made out of dark wood, sturdy, but nice. The windows next to it were big and light. This was a save area with well-off families. Female families, consisting of mother and daughters and pets. To have a male within your family wasn't really considered proper.

As a male, Florem believed, males like Ringabel would never understood the beauty of flowers and the worth of peace. At least in his case, Ringabel couldn't really argue the peace part.

“So, wanna break-in?” asked Raoul.

“No. I just want to wait. Dawn is already approaching. They'll be up soon.”

So they waited. They weren't really inconspicuous. The very fact that they were male, would make them stand out here. So why bother hiding? Ringabel only wanted a glimpse.

The sun stood at the horizon turning it into a soft shade of rosa, when the first movements withing the house were visible. He tensed. Would they recognize him? If yes, what would they say? Do? Insult him or hug him, he couldn't even take a guess.

But he waited.

The sun rose a bit higher, while they earned more and more angry glares from the women walking past them. Soon, the first peacebringer would come to make sure they leave.

Ringabel's breath stopped, when the door opened and three women walked out. The younger two were laughing. Their hair was colored blue after the newest fashion, hiding all of the natural grey.

They closed the door. Who was the third one, the youngest? He couldn't remember her, but then understood. She was younger than him.

“Who are they?” Raoul looked at him questioning.

“My family,” answered Ringabel quietly.

Raoul nodded and said nothing. He was a Florem male and understood. Ringabel felt a spark of gratitude for that. But he could only focus on the three walking towards them, towards the sidewalk they were standing on. Surely, they would recognize his grey hair, or his eyes. Surely, they hadn't forgotten him completely...

They walked past him with the customary glare and nothing else.

Ringabel breathed again, looking after them. He gulped down his tears of disappointment and relief, shook his head. “Let's go.”

“Yeah.” Raoul didn't argue.

Ringabel gave his mother and sisters another glance. They had condemned him, and forgotten about him. He was unsure what would have once hurt most, but now after he himself hat forgotten them, he only felt tired.

His first five years hadn't been that bad. His mother had kept him in a room, but he had toys and a bed and food and sometimes his sister would sneak in and play with him. He was alone and isolated, yes, but he wasn't in the dark.

That changed, when his mother took him one night by his hand and walked down to the port.

“You stay here,” she had said. “Stay, until someone comes for you.”

He had nodded. Crying, she had ruffled his hair and turned away.

“Mum?” he had said. She froze – and then walked faster into the darkness.

No one came for him in that night, or the following day. Hunger forced him to move and beg. It was probably only luck he survived the first few weeks, until he knew where to hide and how to steal.

And with every day down there the darkness grew.

She was now a part of him, and he of her. When the others used the Dark Knight asterix, they were good as a fighter, good to use the skill and magics. But he, he was the job. The other asterix gave him another costume, another magic, but Dark Knight was what he was when he slept, when he walked, when he lived.

He was survival, rolled into desperation and rage. He was love and hate, fueled by dreams.

He was Alternis, the Dark Knight and Ringabel, the ladykiller. But above all, he was a loyal friend.

The sun was up and surely they were now noticing him missing. His friends. His family. The people that were holding his darkness in check for him to thrive and live.

With every step away from the house, away from old and painful memories he felt lighter. They had abandoned him, yes, but this time he was walking away. He was now walking his own path, wherever it would lead him. A path in the sun, side by side with friends.

“Raoul?” he said and stopped the boy with a glance. “Leave Florem. Surviving outside will not be easy, but everything is better than here.” He looked him into the eye. “Everything.”

Even death.

“Y-yes.”

This time he pulled out of his coat several silver coins. “Take this. And leave Florem today.”

Raoul was stunned. “But where to?”

“There are villages everywhere,” assured him Ringabel. “And everywhere is sun. Leave the darkness.”

“I-I will,” whispered the boy, clutching the coins to his heart. Then he turned and ran.

Ringabel smiled and started his walk back to the inn.

~

“There you are!” greeted him Tiz the moment Ringabel entered. “Where did you go?”

“We tried to follow you,” added Edea. “But you vanished!”

“Are you alright?” asked Agnés.

Ringabel smiled. “I'm alright,” he said.

And he would be, thanks to them.

 


End file.
